Community Service
by Magical words from Muggle pens
Summary: Draco Malfoy is given a choice: three months of community service or Azkaban? The answer seems simple. But little does he know that the one and only Hermione Granger is the new head of the department he's assigned to. ON HIATUS.
1. The New Boss

**Chapter 1: The New Boss**

_"The first duty of a human being is to assume the right functional relationship to society -- more briefly, to find your real job, and do it"_

* * *

_DRACO MALFOY, EX-DEATH EATER, COMMUTES SENTENCE IN FAVOR OF COMMUNITY SERVICE_

_Draco Malfoy, infamous son of You-Know-Who supporter, Lucius Malfoy, has opted for 3 months of community service instead of serving prison time at Azkaban. Malfoy has recently been convicted by the Wizengamot for his two year membership and allegiance to You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters. This allegation was appealed due to Mr. Malfoy's claims that he had been coerced to join You-Know-Who's forces because of threats to the safety of his parents. Malfoy has also been convicted for the attempted murder of Albus Dumbledore, the late Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft. _

_However, letters addressed to the Wizengamot from the deceased wizard seem to have turned the luck for Malfoy. An anonymous court member claims that Dumbledore had vouched for Malfoy's innocence and believes any future charges should be dropped. Upon hearing of the Wizengamot's skepticism regarding the credulity of these letters, the one and only Harry Potter has stepped up to defend Malfoy. He affirmed that, despite prior plans to kill Dumbledore, Malfoy did not in fact go through with the act. This is a surprise turn of events, seeing as Potter and Malfoy reportedly shared a particularly contentious relationship in Hogwarts. However, in a public spirit of reconciliation, Potter has said that he is willing to forgive and forget. _

_Despite these public defenses of Malfoy's character, the Wizengamot firmly stated that no misdeed should go unpunished. So they compromised and offered Malfoy a chance to serve the wizarding community for three months, monetarily and personally, instead of an eight months' sentence at Azkaban. Just two days ago, sources confirmed that Malfoy has decided to volunteer for the community. He shall be working in an undisclosed department at the Ministry of Magic. A quarter of his inheritance, worth 5 million pounds, is also being donated to the said department. _

....

....

Hermione and Harry were silently perusing the Daily Prophet, sipping their steaming coffee as their eyes caught each other. Hermione's face looked exasperated and defeated while Harry attempted to give her a placating smile.

"If I had known Malfoy was the anonymous criminal assigned to work in my department, I would have refused," Hermione grumbled.

"He's not technically a criminal now."

"He's as good as," she muttered darkly. "You know, I'm really surprised that he hasn't bought off the jury with his inheritance. Only a _quarter_ of it is 5 million pounds! Filthy, arrogant ..."

"Hermione," Harry admonished, chuckling. "You know that donation will completely revamp the department. Those delayed projects will be completed now, especially with the free help."

"Help?" Hermione scoffed. "I'll be lucky if I don't find all these house elves beheaded by the end of the month."

She let out a loud groan and covered her head in her hands. There was no justice in the world. Even after graduation, the insufferable ferret was bothering her. She deserved her peace and quiet now. Harry merely chuckled at her grumblings, folding up the paper and standing up to leave. Hermione looked up and he placed a friendly kiss on her cheek.

"Well, good luck Hermione. I better go meet Ginny for our lunch date."

"Have fun," she sighed. "I'll just be here, banging my head against the wall."

Laughing, Harry stepped out of her office and rounded the corner.

There his amusement faded into pleasant surprise. Looking at him, in equal shock, was Draco Malfoy. Dressed in impeccable black robes and sleek blond hair, he looked rather like a corporate tycoon than a desperate convict. Fumbling uncharacteristically, Draco appraised Harry.

"You're not the head of this department, are you?" he looked dubious.

"Me? No, I'm an Auror."

"Figures," he said with no malice. "So - "

"So -" Harry said at the same time, and they both broke into hesitant smiles. "Good luck with your service Malfoy."

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "The boss isn't a tyrant is he?"

To his surprise, Harry roared with laughter, clutching his side in pain. Draco lifted an eyebrow quizzically. "_Potter_..." he said slowly.

"You don't know do you? - Oh well, I guess you've been busy with the trial. Ehm, well, go on in and see for yourself Malfoy."

"Wha-?"

But Harry was already gone, leaving Draco utterly confused and irritated. Bloody Gryffindors - still mental as always. He seriously hoped he wasn't stuck with some crazy bint. He imagined finding Mr. Lovegood inside and shuddered at the thought.

..

..

**Welcome to the: **

**-DEPARTMENT FOR THE REGULATION AND CONTROL OF MAGICAL CREATURES-**

..

There was a large wooden desk with an empty chair, beyond which stood a door with the plaque 'Dept. Head.' He lingered for a second, wondering if the missing secretary was going to show up, before deciding to knock on the door.

"Come in!" a muffled voice came. Was that a woman? Maybe she's hot--- The thought trailed off in his head as a woman with coffee brown hair came into view, his gaze hooked on her softly rounded hips. Her pinned curls bounced as she stood up to greet him.

"Took you long enough Malfoy," she scowled.

His mouth was hanging open indelicately as he stared at Hermione, aghast. "_Mudblood_?" he blurted without thinking and she gasped loudly.

In an instant, Hermione picked up the colorful paperweight on her desk and hurled it at him. He leapt to the side just as it whizzed past him. "FUCK! What the hell, you could have cracked my skull, you bitch!"

"I'm _sorry_ Malfoy," her voice dripped with sarcasm as she folded her arms. "I wasn't aware there was anything in your head worth damaging."

"Why you-" he strode up to her purposefully, but she held up an authoritative hand. He made a low growling sound. All of the politeness remaining from meeting Harry had dissipated.

Hermione spoke calmly. "In case you are forgetting _Mr. Malfoy_, you are here to serve your sentence by repaying the wizarding community. If you speak any such slurs about my parenting, you will find yourself back in Azkaban."

"Such intolerance has no place anywhere, particularly not in this department - of which I am the Head," she added maliciously.

The little color in Draco Malfoy's face drained away. His fists clenched and unclenched as he pinched his nose. For a moment, struggled to compose himself.

"I -- apologize," he finally ground out, mildly surprising Hermione. But then again, he _was_ desperate to stay out of Azkaban. She looked at him cooly and decided that he wasn't mocking her. The apology was as sincere as could be expected from him.

"Right," she said flippantly, "seeing as you've gone through training, I expect you know what to do. Your office is two doors down."

He stared at her, aghast.

Hermione huffed loudly, as though _he_ was the one being deliberately obtuse. "Well...? Go on. I've put several folders there - regarding accounts and recent legal cases that I want you to and organize. If I want anything, I shall owl you memos."

Draco blinked. There were a hundred questions running through his mind. She had just casually thrown a bunch of information at him and expected him to do what - salute her? _Yes_, _m'am_. _Right away m'am_.

She leaned in, her eyes twinkling ominously, as Draco sat in tense silence.

"Hope this isn't stressing your delicate brain, Malfoy," she taunted. A scowl appeared on his face, but he seemed to be restraining himself from retorting.

"Don't worry. Seeing as I've only recently been appointed the head of the department, I don't have any projects for you to be working on at the moment. You shall merely run errands for me, and deal with _whatever_ assignment I feel suitable - _whenever_ I want you to."

The scowl on Malfoy's face deepened as he looked ready to explode. Hermione smiled at him and leaned in, her eyes twinkling. His hand clenched into a fist, as though he was resisting the urge to whip out his wand.

"_So_ ... Malfoy ... tell me: how does it feel to be my subordinate?" she nearly cackled at his pained expression.

His grey eyes met her dark ones head on, determined not to let his dignity get trampled under the monstrosity that was Hermione Granger. He was a _Malfoy_. Pureblood royalty!

"You're quite the sadist Granger," he drawled finally, breaking his silence.

She leaned back with a smug expression, sipping her coffee cooly.

"What can I say - justice is sweet - Draco Malfoy for _once_ under me," she sighed in contentment.

He lifted an eyebrow bemusedly, grey eyes flicking to the swooping neck of her blouse. "I always knew you wanted me, Granger."

Hermione stared, then spluttered into her mug as the innuendo sunk into her brain. "I .... Malfoy - get to work!"

He merely chuckled.

* * *

His office was much smaller than Granger, and he desperately tried to mitigate the blow to his pride and reminded himself of all the reasons why he was superior to her.

1. Prettier hair

2. Much more charming

3. Not a frigid bitch

Draco had been amenable to joining this department because, frankly, he didn't think anyone actually did anything here. He certainly hadn't paid much attention to minority creature rights, and assumed no one else had either. At least no one else who actually had a _life_.

4. Has an existent love life

He surveyed the piles of paper lying on his desk and groaned audibly. The last time he ever had to lift a finger to organize anything had been in Hogwarts. At home he always had house elves and accountants available for his convenience.

After having squeezed around the mess and into his desk, a small owl flew into his doorway dropped a memo, looking at him expectantly.

After ignoring the bird for several minutes, it started pecking his hand viciously until he wrote a hasty reply.

Bloody hell, even Granger's owl is a bossy swot.

* * *

_Malfoy_

Purchase 50-60 cotton shirts for the house elves in our custody.

_H.G_

* * *

_Madame Granger_

I must have misheard you - trying to clothe house elves, no, trying to make **me** clothe them! I'm sure they're quite toasty in their little chamber.

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

You are welcome to repairing my clogged toilet if the current assignment displeases you. I'm sure Janitor Levins would like a day off.

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

What size shirts?

_D.M_

PS. Your bushy mane got stuck in the toilet or what?

* * *

By the time Draco had emerged from his office, he was ready to do something really worthy of Azkaban.

He'd had to floo home, and bark at one of the house elves to fetch him the purchases _Her Highness Hermione_ desired. After 10 minutes of consoling the elves, and reassuring them that the clothes weren't for them, he'd managed to stuff the papers away and go home before Hermione could boss him around anymore.

The Wizengamot did not require him to be at work on the weekends - thank Merlin for small miracles.

Draco spent the rest of the week getting pampered to death, preparing his muscles for the next wringing Hermione was going to give him.

'What was that?' he wondered as something fluttered in.

The bloody woman was even bothering him at home!

* * *

_Malfoy_

Be sure to have the files ready at 10 am Monday morning.

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

It's Saturday. Some people actually have blokes to shag.

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

**You** have blokes to shag? Where's Rita Skeeter when you need her?

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

If even get a hint of such rumors in the paper, I'll sic Crabbe and Goyle onto your precious elves.

_D.M_

* * *

Crabbe **and** Goyle, huh? Naughty boy. Should have known it wasn't their stupendous intellect that attracted you to them.

_Hermione_

* * *

_Granger_

You better hope your flat has good wards.

_Draco Malfoy_

PS. Call me naughty boy again

* * *

_Malfoy_

Shut up.

....

....

....

* * *

**M~**


	2. Knitting for Elves

**Chapter 2: Knitting for Elves**

_"War! that mad game the world so loves to play"_

* * *

.

_DRACO MALFOY TO BE WORKING AT THE DEPARTMENT FOR THE REGULATION AND CONTROL OF MAGICAL CREATURES _

_Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eather, has recently committed to performing three months of community service in the Ministry of Magic. It is now reported that he has begun working in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, which is headed by war hero Hermione Granger. This turn of events signifies a new relationship between Harry Potter, his friends and the Malfoy. Between Potter's public defense of Malfoy and Dumbledore's personal vow of his innocence, Granger is only the latest to embrace the spirit of reconciliation. _

_However, public image must belie their personal interests as Granger and Malfoy have been reported to have shared an even more inimitable relationship than that between Potter and Malfoy. The Malfoys have been notorious for their pureblood fanaticism. He has also publicly denounced efforts initiated by Granger to improve the livelihood of house elves. One can wonder how happy Draco Malfoy is to be working under the most famous muggleborn in the wizarding world - for a cause he so clearly doesn't believe in. _

_..._

Draco scowled at the article. It was bad enough being constantly reminded that he was working for her, let alone having the entire wizarding community know it. And why the hell did they always have to introduce him as an ex-Death Eater. Didn't he tell the idiots that he was forced into it? Morons. He wouldn't be surprised if the Prophet was actually run by a bunch of Weasleys.

He lazily flicked the empty coffee cup into the trash, and lounged back. There was a new stack of papers waiting on his desk, but he took his own sweet time. If he was required to wake up at this ghastly hour, he would settle into it. He was Draco Malfoy. He didn't take dictation.

As if in a battle cry, a familiar tawny owl swooped down onto his deak and stared at Malfoy, who merely quirked an eyebrow at the bird.

Deep breaths

Deep breaths

Casually leaning over, Draco picked the memo from the owl's beak before it could begin pecking him again.

* * *

_Malfoy_

I wasn't aware it was nap time. Get to work!

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

Are you spying on me?

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

You better hope all I'm doing is spying if I catch you lazing off.

_H.G_

* * *

What you gonna do McGonagall - spank me?

_D.M_

* * *

What's the matter Granger - cat got your tongue?

Don't deny it, you know you want to.

_D.M_

* * *

_Mr. Malfoy_

Miss Granger has just stepped out of the office. I would recommend that you refrain from such inappropriate remarks if you would like to stay out of Azkaban.

_Percy Weasley_

* * *

_Mr. Weasley_

Terribly sorry.

One question: isn't snooping through someone's mail a criminable offense?

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

**11 am**

"Percy!"

Draco chuckled as he heard Hermione's loud voice through the walls several minutes after writing to Percy _I'll-wipe-your-ass-for-a-promotion_ Weasley. A man's spluttering voice followed, mumbling low apologies. But Hermione's irate voice was loud and clear.

"Percy, you know snooping through someone's mail is a criminable offense!" she shrieked.

Draco laughed harder as his exact words came out of her mouth. Granger's wrath was admittedly much more amusing when turned upon another unfortunate soul. He chortled, imagining Percy's reddened face at being caught red-handed.

"Malfoy, I can hear you - _get to work_!"

He rolled his eyes, and vaguely wondered if she had magical eyes like that nutter, Moody.

Ignoring her statement, he merely twirled his wand in between his hands, straining to hear any more. There were some low whispers. He could hear the deep voice, Percy, trying valiantly to speak, but was cut off by the shrill tone of Hermione Granger.

There was a sudden silence.

Then Percy marched by his door, incensed and muttering, "I'm not the one owling people two doors away."

Curious, Draco walked out of his office to see where Percy was heading off to. Instead he ran right into his boss, Hermione, who was slightly taken back by Draco's sudden appearance.

"What-?" she blurted, startled as he veered dangerously into her.

To keep himself from toppling right onto her shorter frame, he grasped her shoulder and righted himself, looking as though he had never broken from his ever-so-cool stance. She gaped at his promixity before jumping out of his grasp violently, glaring at him.

He smirked; his grey gaze lazily traveled along her form, resting at her cleavage which had revealed itself from its modest covering. Her hand fluttered over the exposed flesh.

"Come for my spanking?" he drawled.

Her entire face went red. If she had been a Weasley she would now be one color from top to bottom. Glaring at him, she pursed up her lips, obviously holding herself back from breaking into a verbal diatribe.

"Malfoy, you are here to work not pass _idiotic_ comments!" she scolded. "I sent you a parcel with a note asking for a reply, why haven't you done so?"

"A parcel?"

He suddenly remembered the package he'd tossed to the side while wading through the massive stacks of disorganized paper. "_Ah_... you didn't have to get me a welcome-to-the-job present Granger. Please - don't tell me it's a _book_."

"Shut it Malfoy. Like I'd spend a dime on you," she snapped.

"A what?" he was baffled by the muggle term.

"-nothing," she replied in exasperation, rubbing the heels of her palm against her temple. "Stop deviating from the topic. I sent you wool and knitting instructions."

Draco looked at her with wide eyes of disbelief, grey eyes clearly appraising her. "Granger... that's worse than books."

"MERLIN!" she shrieked, causing Draco to jump and smirk at her red face. "JUST GO TO YOUR OFFICE AND FOLLOW THE BLOODY INSTRUCTIONS. You are to knit wool booties for 30 house elves by the end of the day!"

"What the -"

"NOW!" she roared, pointing a finger toward his door. Draco glared at her, his lips curling up in ire before he stormed back into his office, muttering curses under his breath.

_Argh_, that insufferable egomaniacal ... ARGHH!

Hermione escaped into her office and rested her head against the desk. She had taken more headache potions in the past week than she had in her entire stay at Hogwarts. She just knew he was retaliating for putting him through hell last week.

After finishing all of last week's work diligently, he had suddenly decided to work at snail's pace - taking an hour to sip a small cup of coffee and read the paper. She had needed some documents the day before, only to find him studiously filing his nails instead.

She desperately needed to finalize her projects for the department - not only to report to Kingsley, but to occupy Malfoy's time so much that he would _have_ to work. She'd see to it.

If she could make Ron Weasley do homework, she could make Draco Malfoy do work - even if she had to resort to an unforgivable.

* * *

**3 pm**

After several threats of unforgivables (which he merely laughed at) and Azkaban notification, Draco Malfoy finally got to work. He'd simply wanted to annoy the hell out of Granger, and make her regret treating him like a mule the previous week. But that plan wasn't working so well, judging by the pounding headache he'd received after exposure to her screams.

So he hereby decided to limit his insults to three - no four per day. _Hmm_, let's amend that to how many ever insults he could manage before getting a migraine.

Filing away the latest odd job Hermione had found for him, Draco noticed there were two new folders, each with a person's name and picture printed on the cover.

..

**Pansy Parkinson**, Hogwarts Graduate

**Blaise Zabini**, Head of Goblin-Wizard Relations, Gringotts

..

Staring at the pouting face of Pansy Parkinson and the dark handsome one of Blaise Zabini, Draco's ivory skin furrowed in confusion. Why did Granger have files on his former housemates? Were they on some sort of watch list for creature abuse?

Having experienced Pansy's company personally, he would be sure that anyone else would classify it as torture too. But Blaise was a good friend of his, a neutral party, who, as far as he knew, did not engage in any such controversial activities.

Feeling a rush of loyalty to his longtime friend and to the Slytherin house, Draco walked down two doors in search of his boss.

He wouldn't put it past Granger to gleefully dangle his friends in front of him.

He screeched to a halt at the sight of a primped up woman sitting at the desk in front of Hermione's office. The woman's dark eyes shifted, and sparkled in recognition. With a magnificently jubilant expression, Pansy Parkinson launched herself into his arms.

Hermione, who had been speaking to Pansy, stared at them.

"DRAKIE!" she squealed.

Sweet Merlin. Azkaban would have been better than this, he thought fervently. He wrenched himself away from her.

"Pansy, you are supposed to notify me if someone's in my office - not molest them," said Hermione.

Pansy rolled her eyes, trying but failing to be indiscreet. "Draco Malfoy's here Miss Granger."

Hermione's lips twitched.

"I need to talk to you," he hissed at Hermione, ignoring Pansy's adoring gaze.

"Fine, come in." She shrugged and turned toward her door.

Just as he started behind Hermione, long nails painfully sunk into his backside. Draco yelped and whirled around to find a winking Pansy grabbing his ass.

If it had been any other woman, he would have reacted in a much different manner. But instead _this_ horrid creature had escaped from a psychotic beauty salon to haunt him. He scowled magnificently as he slammed the door behind him.

Hermione glanced at him curiously as he rubbed his sore bum. She began to question him, then thought better of it. Instead she settled into her chair, and turned to her papers.

Draco sauntered up to her desk haughtily, irking Hermione with his royal pureblood-prince air. His tall frame stretched in the expensive silk robes, and his normally sleek blond hair was falling over slate grey eyes.

"Granger, what the hell is Pansy doing as your secretary?" he demanded irritably.

"Malfoy..." she huffed. This was his urgent talk? "This is not work-related, and I don't do chit-chat. Especially not after chasing you around like your mother, submitting employment reports, and handling Pansy and Percy - all in one day."

She was studiously writing down some notes. He was silent for a moment as she closed her eyes and tiredly ran a hand through her curls. She sighed longingly for sleep, then stilled at the odd silence. Her eyes popped open to find Draco observing her mutely, and frowned at him. Had he fallen asleep with his eyes open?

Seeing her suspicious gaze, he simply sneered.

"Granger," he prodded again, undeterred. "She's my ex-girlfriend. I deserve to know."

She sighed audibly.

"Nosy ferret," she muttered

"-What was that?"

"_Nothing_ Malfoy." Honestly, she had to repeat work instructions ten times, but her whispered insults he hears immediately.

"As nice as your imaginary friends must be, Granger, I'm still waiting for an answer."

"Well I'm busy!" she illustrated her point by loudly scratching her quill.

After glaring at her for five minutes without a response, Draco pushed the chair back noisily. Hermione took no notice. Highly irritated, he stormed out of the office, nearly escaping Pansy's clutches. What had he done to get stuck in a department full of irritable women?

He shuffled the papers on his desk, and cursed at Granger, flipped the pages, then cursed her some more - saving a few choice words for Pansy.

After just a few minutes of half-hearted attempts at work, he shoved the folders aside, whipped out a parchment and called the owl.

She would listen him. No one ignores Draco Malfoy.

.

.

.

**

* * *

**_Granger_

Tell me now.

_D.M_

* * *

_Granger_

**now**: adverb. immediately, at once

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

You are supposed to be working, not prying into confidential information.

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

It's Pansy. She is to confidentiality what Hagrid is to intelligence. Now stop being such a gossip-hog and tell me.

_D.M_

* * *

Malfoy

Fine! Like you, Pansy decided to repay her debt to society by offering me her services.

That's all I will say on the matter!

_H.G_

* * *

Ah -

**Poor** Granger, only criminals want to work with you.

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

I'm not the one knitting booties for the elves

* * *

Draco's ears turned pink.

.

.

.

.

* * *

**Disclaimer: Hi my name is Harry Potter - you may have read my biography by J.K Rowling. Yes, I'm real. Yes, I write fanfiction. **

**Thanks for the reviews!! Keep em coming. **

**M~**


	3. Pulling Pigtails

**Chapter 3: Pulling Pigtails**

_"Courage is fire, and bullying smoke"_

* * *

.

.

Hermione was working furiously on her new project. There was a mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in her belly. She was so desperate to prove herself capable of this post. There were still many who questioned her qualifications, spreading rumors that she'd simply been promoted because of her famous friend.

She had gotten quite a lot accomplished in her first month as the Department head. But now she needed to do something that made a statement - a very public statement.

Blaise would be arriving soon, and Pansy was already set to work on her newest tasks. Now she just needed the third member of her project to focus, and all would be well.

Oh, who was she fooling? She was doomed.

_Doomed_.

Draco Malfoy had made her workplace absolute chaos since the moment he'd entered in his expensive Italian leather shoes.

Malfoy, she found, was truly innovative in anything completely unrelated to work. He had bothered her by avoiding tasks, then by sending her thousands of pestilent memos, and when she had ignored them, he began invading her private office - just to spew more derisive comments.

"Draco!" she heard Zabini's low rumbling greeting.

No, no, no ... Hermione hid her head in her hands. Maybe if she just laid here, he would think she had been petrified and would leave her alone.

She was so delusional.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had walked into work with a brilliant smirk that day. One of his closest friends would be joining their department, he had found out. Although one of his more annoying schoolmates, Pansy Parkinson, had also joined the department, he was still happy.

His life's sole goal (as of right now) was going along very nicely, if he did say so himself. And he always said so. Because he was Draco Malfoy. Who could compete?

Draco was sure Hermione Granger was in her office, cursing him with every hex in the book.

After all, he had created a record last week by owling her a hundred memos within the span of five minutes. She had unfortunately (or fortunately) chosen that very moment to re-enter her office, opening the door to a flood of parchment. He had laughed hysterically for the entire hour.

_Goal accomplished._

After cursing him with a Stinging hex, she had sealed the window in her office, instead re-routing all mails to Pansy - who was none too pleased by the conspicuous amount of memos passing between them.

Thus arose Method #3 of annoying the hell out of Hermione Granger: invade her personal office as much and as often as possible. Method #1 (refusal to do any work) had been shot down by Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was a shameless Gryffindor panderer. Method #2 (memo maelstrom) was now neutered by Pansy's shrieking about paper cuts.

Stupid bint couldn't even figure out a simple healing charm.

On his way to her office to begin his new plan, Draco heard low muttering, and peered around to find a familiar dark-haired Slytherin towering over Pansy. Instantly, the smirk on his face dissolved into a brilliant smile.

"Blaise!" he called out.

Blaise turned to look at Draco curiously, before breaking into a grin. "Draco!" He came up and gave his friend a hug before throwing a severe glance at Pansy's whimpering. She was pointedly avoiding looking in Zabini's direction and instead smiled coquettishly at the blond.

Draco stared at the ex-lovers.

"Merlin, am I glad you two are 'off' again. I think I've had enough of you sticking your tongues down each others' throats," said Draco in relief.

"Oh don't worry Drakie, I have no interest whatsoever in going back to Zabini," Pansy said.

_'Drakie_?' Blaise mouthed. Draco shook his head, as if to say 'Don't ask.' He then sneered at the woman fluttering by his side, pawing at him.

"Parkinson, get real," Blaise spat when she continued stroking Draco's arm. "Only dogs have ears fit for your shrieking."

As if on cue, she shrieked loudly. "You know _what_?" -- But she never got to make her threat.

Right at that instant, with an ear-splitting bang, Hermione Granger's office door slammed open. Inside stood a fuming brunette.

"WHAT. IS. GOING. ON?" she enunciated, her curls flying everywhere. Draco grinned widely.

"The meeting isn't for another _three hours_!" Hermione exclaimed.

"-What?" Blaise interrupted. "Pansy told me it was in 20 minutes."

Brushing her hair back, Pansy simply fluttered her lashes innocently. "Oops."

Draco rolled his eyes as Blaise and Pansy began twittering at each other again. Was he ever glad that his brief time with Pansy was just that - brief.

Suddenly Hermione loomed over him, pursing her lips in suspicion. "What are _you_ doing here? I know Pansy told you the correct time," she said sternly.

"I brought folders," he drawled insouciantly, waving a hand at the stack of folders sitting outside her door. Her eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

"...You did _work_," she murmured with amazement.

"Brilliant observation, genius. Now help me with these," he said, levitating the first pile of folders into her office. Hermione huffed at him, and with a quick glance at the still bickering couple, beckoned the rest.

Draco's long legs crossed the length of her office quickly, and she could do nothing more than trot behind him.

When they were done shifting folders, she found to her dismay that he was not leaving. Blaise and Pansy were also nowhere to be seen. Did anyone do work around here?  
Deciding that she needed to be seated for whatever inane comments he had to spew today, she mutely proceeded to her chair.

Draco trailed behind her, and she acutely felt something soft and large pressed against her back, urging her forward.

Hermione glanced behind her and was speechless when she found Draco's manicured hand at the small of her back, softly molding to the curve as he guided her to her seat. She gasped and stiffened her back.

His hold tightened around her hip but did not relent.

"What?" he asked baffled.

"Stop- _don't touch me_!"

Draco raised an eyebrow and simply slid his hand further down her back, sloping it down the soft curve, lightly brushing over her bottom, before tucking it into his pocket. He strode past her and sat down with aplomb. Hermione's mouth was slightly parted. She could painfully distinguish the sliver of skin on her back that felt as thought it was aflame.

He smirked.

"I think you're getting too full of yourself there Granger. Why would I even want to touch a mu-"

"Stop. Right. There," she whipped out her wand, snapping out of her trance. Draco chuckled at her.

"What?" he asked innocently. "I was just going to say I'd no interest in touching a mundane little bookwork like yourself."

_Do not kill employees_

_Do not kill employees_

Grabbing her robe off the back of her chair, Hermione shrugged it on and sank into her chair huffily. Her robe was now covering all skin, save for her face.

Stupid idiotic ferret. Just because she had refused to reply to his past six or seven hundred memos did not excuse him lounging in her office for the latest volley of witty barbs. Since when did he become so fond of her office anyways? She'd have stuck to owling him if it meant keeping a lengthy distance.

"Why are you here bothering me, Malfoy? You could have just sent me a memo," she grumbled.

"Ah, but I want to pay a personal visit. I do want to get into my boss' good graces," he said, his grey eyes twinkling with insincere fervor. She replied with a derisive snort.

"Right, you want-" started Hermione.

But what she had to say was never found out as Pansy's high voice drowned her out. A low masculine voice was audible. After a slight rustling noise, Blaise's head appeared as he peeped into her office, beaming at the pair of them.

"Hello! Not interrupting am I?" he asked, then continued without waiting for a response. "... _of course not_, Malfoy hardly bothers with important work talk."

Both Draco and Hermione scowled.

"Granger," Blaise said. "I was wondering if you wanted the detailed blueprints I drew up, or just the numbers today. I have it all ready for you."

"Really?" Hermione asked, pleased at his efficiency.

Draco shifted in his seat and slid a cool glance toward his friend, muttering, "Brownnoser."

"Malfoy!" Hermione snapped. "You can learn something from Blaise - especially since you claim to want to get into my good graces."

"Your _what_?" Blaise laughed loudly.

"Nothing," she rolled her eyes at Draco's smirk. "Malfoy told me a few minutes back that he'd like to get into my good graces."

At her derisive scoff, Blaise grinned. "Right, Draco, I'd like to see you try. I'm sure _I_ would be infinitely better at getting into Granger's good graces."

Draco chuckled, knowing his friend's penchant for flattery. Since long before Hogwarts, the dark Italian had always had a way with words.

"And who knows," Blaise's murmured liltingly, "maybe later I can get into _other_ things of my boss," he winked devilishly at Hermione, sliding his hot blue gaze down her body.

There was sudden silence. Hermione's jaw had swung down, hanging limply, as if without a screw. Draco's twirling wand clattered to the floor.

"Sleep on it. I'll be back for the briefing -!"

With a cheery, oblivious nod he was gone.

Hermione slowly shut her mouth and felt warm color spread over her cheeks. Draco looked very much as though the air had been let out of him. His previously light, humorous disposition was now replaced by a familiar arrogance.

"Why Granger..." he drawled, his lips curling into a sneer. "You're positively blushing, like a little virginal bride."

Her soft smile faded.

"And sadly, pink doesn't suit you so well -- clashes with that horrific nest on your head," he wrinkled his aristocratic nose at her dark curls.

She lifted an affronted hand to her hair. Her stress and anger returned with a vengeance, pounding at her furiously. She lifted her quill and jabbed it at him menacingly.

"_What the hell is wrong with you_? One minute you're trying to smarm up to me and the next you're the same callous bullying prat from Hogwarts."

He sneered at that.

"I've had it with your distractions. Like I told you a hundred times over, I am extremely busy and stressed. Now get out of my office," she commanded.

Draco turned up his nose and stalked out, paying no attention to Pansy's squeals or Blaise's calls. Draco pointedly avoided his friend's quizzical gaze. Blaise frowned after him.

* * *

As usual, Hermione was waiting minutes before the briefing. She tried valiantly to mute out Pansy and Blaise's harsh whispers. Merlin knew what had happened in their past. Ever since they had met each other this morning, they had been at each others' throats. As if their department needed another sparring couple - er - coworkers.

In her periphery she saw Malfoy strolling in, and sighed as he folded his tense arms belligerently. Why oh why did she agree to take on Slytherins? Their minds were dark mazes only the insane would care to understand.

"Ehm," she cleared her throat.

All three of them looked up at her.

"As the head of this department, I wanted to introduce some radical changes - including bringing a new face to creature rights. In order to do more for abused creatures, we will raise money through charity, appealing to donors and hosting a Ministry gala as a fundraiser. There are several avenues to wisely spend this money in. But I have decided it best to start a very publicized construction of a free clinic/shelter of sorts, designed to help goblins and house-elves in need. "

"Goblins want a free clinic?" Draco scoffed. Pansy snickered loudly.

"Yes," Hermione asserted, putting a hand on her softly rounded hips. "These creatures are very susceptible to abuse. They are in desperate need of free shelter and care."

"Well I think it's a great idea!" Blaise chirped up. All three of them stared at him.

Hermione's smile exploded across her face, and Blaise grinned charmingly at her. At Draco and Pansy's derisive glances, he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to Hermione's proud face.

"The goblins have always been complaining about prejudice in St. Mungo's," Blaise explained. "And the lack of alternative care provided to them. When I told them your idea, they were positively jumping up and down with joy. I even got one to compromise on a deal I'd been begging him to sign since last spring!"

If possible, Hermione looked even happier. Draco grumbled under his breath.

"That's wonderful Blaise!" she exclaimed.

Draco mimicked her chirpy voice under his breath. She threw him a menacing glance and Blaise looked bemused.

"The rest of my staff will continue to oversee day-to-day creature concerns," she continued. "But you three will be supervising this clinic project. So I've drawn up a list of things for you to accomplish."

Hermione pulled out a parchment with neatly scribbled writing. Draco wanted to laugh at her characteristic obsessive-compulsiveness, but figured it would be wise to stay silent just this once.

"Parkinson, these are the list of priority contacts and donors. You have to make sure that all meetings with them are arranged and confirmed ahead of time." Pansy simply smacked her rouge lips together and muttered her acquiescence.

"Zabini, you will correspond with the goblins on the blueprints and finances. Find out about portkeys that can help these creatures obtain easy access to the clinics." He nodded.

"Malfoy, you will get the accounts of the donors from the Finances Department and organize them. You will also be helping to make sure all the planned events go smoothly - all materials should arrive on time, the board meetings should be set, and the gala should be the best the Ministry has seen in ages."

"Right, will you want all that done by today or tomorrow?" he drawled arrogantly.

She glared at him fiercely.

"Those are my expectations for the rest of your sentence."

"Sentence?" Draco sneered. "I'm not a convict."

"Exactly. Be grateful."

"Make me," he lifted his pointed chin up.

"Malfoy," Hermione warned. She glared at him again before handing some documents to Pansy.

Blaise muttered something under his breath, "... _playground_ ... _pulling pigtails_."

"What the hell are you muttering about Zabini?"

"Oh nothing, just thinking about Granger."

Draco narrowed his grey eyes. "Why?" he spat. "And she doesn't have pigtails."

"If she did I'm sure you'd pull them," Blaise sniggered lowly.

"Seriously Zabini, if you have something to say - say it!"

"Great, don't tell me you two are fighting now?" Hermione turned to them, placing her hands on her hips menacingly. "This is supposed to be a professional Ministry department, not school!"

"Why are you looking at _me_?" Draco grumbled upon seeing that she was staring at him threateningly.

Hermione merely placed a silencing finger over her lips. He stuck out his tongue at her, and promptly shut up, ignoring the quiet masculine laughter that rang seconds later.

* * *

It was an hour before Draco found what he was looking for. He whipped out a parchment from his desk and quickly scribbled the note.

Draco's owl looked at him speculatively when he sealed his memo.

"Sorry bird, but Granger doesn't like you very much - too busy slobbering all over her beloved elves. So I have done a little research and found the charm to make memos fly by themselves."

The owl hooted in disappointment.

"Oh, get over it."

He waved his wand and the parchment sealed itself and promptly flew out the door, presumably through the crack under Hermione's door. His pale lips curved up maliciously.

"It only works on short distances ... and Granger is going to be ever so happy that she put me two doors down."

The owl rustled its feathers and fell off to sleep.

"Idiot bird"

* * *

_Granger_

**Why** am I doing this?

Only you would get free money and use it on pathetic house elves.

_Draco Malfoy_

* * *

_Malfoy_

I sealed my window for a reason! Damn you ... I don't care about your bigoted opinions. Just organize those accounts and give them to me when you're done.

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

You cannot bar communication from your own employees.

And I am not bigoted. I am a reformed man, who is highly offended that you would besmirch my honor with such accusations.

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

Stop being such a drama queen.

It is clear from your disapproval of charity work that you are a bigot. And, as someone who is now in an inferior position himself, I'd expect you to sympathize.

_H.G_

* * *

_Miss Granger_

I have been noticing that there has been a curiously large amount of mail flying between yours and Mr. Malfoy's office. I hope you are exemplifying the efficiency and discipline I know you are capable of, and not using Ministry owls for conversation.

_Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic_

* * *

_Granger_

A Malfoy could never be inferior, particularly **the** Draco Malfoy. Don't deny it.

* * *

_DRACO MALFOY_

FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, SHUT UP AND DO SOME WORK.

_Hermione Granger_ (your boss and the person saving your pathetic hide from Azkaban!)

* * *

_Granger_

Perhaps you should see a Healer. I don't think it's normal to PMS year round.

* * *

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* * *

**A/N:** whew - this felt like an exceptionally long chapter. How about an incentive for the next long chap, hm? ... Review, review, review!


	4. Calm Thoughts

**Chapter 4: Calm Thoughts**

_"There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm"_

* * *

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Hermione scribbled numbers onto the parchment, mentally tabulating the costs, all the while trying valiantly to ignore the blond man sitting right across from her. In his hand was a copy of the Daily Prophet. He brushed the platinum wisps of hair falling over his grey eyes, furrowed in concentration.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?"

"Hmm..?"

The quill twisted in her hands, and she steeled her nerves.

"Just because you found the appropriate property tax forms, doesn't mean your work is done. And why, in Merlin's name, is it taking you an hour to read the Prophet?"

"I'm not reading, Granger," he muttered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," she snapped at him. "Then what are you doing - shitting on it?"

Finally his head rose, and his grey eyes found her in twinkling bemusement. "Granger, my, my - what language."

Before she could verbalize the extent of her vocabulary, Pansy Parkinson's voice floated through the room.

"Granger," she called.

"_Miss_ Granger," Hermione corrected under her breath.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Pansy?"

"The realtor got back to me - "

"And?" Hermione leaned toward the speakers in anticipation. Draco smirked at her, and she realized that her blouse was now stained by the inkwell on her desk. Great.

"Well, he said that they wouldn't give out the property for some - uh - 'retarded good-for-nothing elves'," she said, quietly snickering at the statement.

"He said WHAT?" Hermione shot out of her chair, prompting Draco to quirk an eyebrow at her.

"Memo Blaise," she instructed Pansy.

"_Who_?" Pansy and Draco queried at the same time.

"Get a piece of parchment and owl Blaise - tell him to get in touch with this realtor and deal with him."

"Why?" Pansy whined through the speakers.

Hermione rubbed at her forehead. "Merlin Pansy. Blaise is adept at dealing with this - he works with goblins, after all. I'm sure he'll straighten this out for me."

With another high octaved whine, Pansy disconnected the line. Draco was frowning deeply for some reason. Hermione didn't care - she had a realtor to skewer. _Arrghhh_!

She whirled toward Draco and found that his eyes were wide in shock. Maybe that scream of anguish had actually come out loud. In fact he now looked a little scared. Good, he had reason to be.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD?" she yelled, throwing her hands up into the air.

"I suppose that's rhetorical," he drawled.

"_You_," she jabbed a finger in his face. "It's people like you, who have no compassion for others, especially defenseless creatures, who put me in this position. How dare he say such things? He thinks he can deny a Ministry Department Head her property? A war hero? Harry Potter's best friend?"

"All rhetorical questions again, I suppose."

"Oh, he will rue the day he messed with Hermione Granger," she rubbed her palms together. The only thing missing was a cackling laugh to top off the image of calculating evil.

"O-_kay_," Draco said. "You're scaring me Granger. Calm down. Drink some tea."

Her brown eyes cleared as she suddenly seemed to notice he was still in the room. Throwing off her robe, she grabbed the cup from Draco's proferred hands and then frowned at him, "Why are you so calm? Shouldn't you be insulting me with some mudblood taunt?"

A blond eyebrow raised up, and his long legs crossed lazily. "All right. Drink some tea, _mudblood_."

"You-"

One long pale finger lifted the cup up to her lips. "It's good. I've had some. Never been more relaxed."

Observing him with thinly veiled suspicion, she downed the cup in one go. A cool refreshing wave passed over her, and she slumped back into her chair, relishing the feel of its plush cover.

Malfoy's lean body was draped over the opposing chair and he suddenly struck her as breathtaking when he smoothed the pale hairs away from his aristocratic face. His forearms tensed noticeably as he twirled the quill in his hand. He appraised her, his lips discreetly quirked up at the corners, as if enjoying a private joke.

Somehow, today he seemed rather _tolerable_, not so condescending .... _even a bit friendlier_.

She blinked, now irritated at this observation. _Why in Merlin's name was she thinking about_ ... _him_? She had to _focus_.

"Well, Malfoy, stop dallying and go get me information on the realtor," she stated firmly.

"I thought Blaise-"

"You thought nothing. Go."

Getting up with a sneer, he glanced into her empty tea cup, and with a puzzled look, left.

.

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* * *

Well?

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

I'm sorry, was that a full question? Excuse me while I fetch my secret-Gryffindor-code handbook.

_D.M_

* * *

_Malfoy_

You are in this office for one purpose and one purpose only: to work. Try to scrounge around in that miniscule brain of yours and recall what I assigned you to do. Then look back at my first memo and figure out what the question is.

_H.G_

* * *

I don't suppose you have a dungeon where you torture men with your devious female-domination schemes?

_D.M_

* * *

What?

Malfoy, you're not making any sense. Keep your comments to yourself. I don't feel up to fighting today.

_H.G_

* * *

Pity.

You look like an electrocuted banshee when you're mad.

_D.M_

* * *

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.

.

When Harry strolled into Hermione's office, she was lazily scribbling a reply to Malfoy's latest memo and holding a tea cup in her other hand. Glancing up at the visitor, she grinned and waved him in. "Harry!"

Pansy popped her head around the door, breathing heavily. "Oh - um - Harry Potter to see you, Granger."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you Pansy."

Harry chuckled, and took a seat. When she went back to scratching her quill on the parchment, he asked, "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just sending a reply to Malfoy's memo," she said nonchalantly.

"You're owling _Malfoy_?" he asked stupefied.

"Yes," she glanced at him in confusion. "He does work here."

"Exactly - he works _two doors_ down."

"I know, unfortunate."

Harry stared at her, and she smiled uncaring. He leaned over her uncharacteriscally messy desk and picked at the pieces of paper lying around on it. One, with Malfoy's elegant script, caught his attention. He nearly choked when he read what it said.

"An _electrocuted banshee_?" he read out loud.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and sipped the tea. "Another one of Malfoy's inane comments."

"Wow - what did you do to him?" Harry asked bemused, reading it over again.

Hermione's brown eyes appraised him. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, 'what you do mean'?"

"Harry, _hun_, you just repeated my question twice," she said gently.

"_Hun_?" Harry asked, bewildered. "Are you feeling all right 'Mione?"

"Perfect. I've never been more relaxed," she smiled beatifically up at him.

"I guess," he frowned at her, as if waiting for her to jump up screaming like a madman-_woman_. "Well, it's a good thing you're in a nice mood. I mean, if you didn't blow up at Malfoy for that comment then you should be fine with-"

"What are you talking about Harry?"

"Nothing. Just Ginny's coming to visit you."

"Oh, good!" she exclaimed.

"And Ron," he continued. "And Neville, Lavender, Seamus and Luna."

Slowly her curly head lifted from the parchment that had held her full attention. Her brown eyes rounded in surprise. "What? _All_ of them?"

"Yes. Percy mentioned that you were free."

She frowned. "That can't be right. When he was over here, I told him clearly that I was stressed beyond belief. _Hmm_ ... I don't think he was very happy with me yelling at him in front of the staff."

"So he sic all of your friends on you?" Harry laughed.

Hermione giggled. "Silly boy, that Percy."

Harry was silent for a span of five minutes. "_What the hell, 'Mione_?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Harry! Language!"

"You - you called Percy _'silly boy'_ .. me _'hun'_ .. and you giggled!" he spluttered indignantly.

"I cannot giggle?" she asked, astonished at his outburst.

His green eyes widened to massive proportions. "_Malfoy..._" he breathed in sudden realization, ignoring her.

"Harry, you're not making any sense today. What has Malfoy got to do with my giggling?"

"I'll be back," he said abruptly, leaving her dumbfounded. She shrugged her shoulders and raised a hand.

" ' Ta" she waved goodbye.

.

.

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* * *

_Malfoy_

What did you do to her?

_Harry Potter_

* * *

Sweet Merlin, my eyes deceive me! **The** Harry Potter writing to me?!

_D.M_

* * *

You are avoiding the question, Malfoy. I'm an Auror - do not underestimate me.

_H.P_

* * *

Someone **under**-estimate you? Potter, you should thank Merlin the day that actually happens.

Or should I say The Chosen One.

_D.M_

* * *

Seriously, how does Hermione stand you?

_H.P_

* * *

That bushy mane obscures a lot of things from view, I suppose.

_D.M_

* * *

_Harry, Malfoy_

You are aware you're sitting right across from each other?

_Hermione Granger_

* * *

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* * *

**A/N:** Well, this story is going to be longer than I expected. Goodness knows it's going to take a while to clamber over that mountain of racism J.K Rowling put into Draco... Oh the joys of fandom.

Now gimme some reviewin' love ... go on, _click click click_.


	5. A Flaming Weasley

**Chapter 5: A Flaming Weasley**

_"When angry, count to four. When very angry, swear"_

* * *

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Blaise lifted the cup to his dark lips and took a deep sip, and sighed. "Mm, this is good."

"Just had it brewed this morning. Merlin knows I need it with that _she-devil_ as my boss," Draco drawled, his pale lips quirking as he thought of the feisty Gryffindor. Blaise's blue eyes twinkled knowingly.

Draco was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, and did not notice this. "Even Potter helped himself to the tea - finally got him to piss off."

"Really? 'M surprised you're not rotting in Azkaban for trying to feed He-who-must-be-worshipped something," said Blaise.

Draco merely shrugged.

"MALFOY!" a piercing yell suddenly rang.

His grey eyes shot open. Blaise whirled around in his seat, and simultaneously they frowned, having seen no one.

"YOU'RE WORKING WITH THAT FERRET - WHEN WERE YOU GONNA TELL ME 'MIONE?!"

Before either of the former Slytherins could react, a flaming redhead jumped into Malfoy's doorway, seething violently. Short on his heels was Hermione, who was tugging at her friend's robes insistently.

"Honestly, Ron. Calm down."

"CALM DOWN? I thought I was your friend!"

"You are," she asserted sweetly.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and Blaise sniggered into his teacup. Hermione folded her arms and pursed her lips. She didn't seem to be very upset, but was frowning at her friend. On the other hand, Ron looked like a psychotic madman let loose from prison. He was snarling and spluttering violently.

Draco stood up, stretching his lithe form as he held a placating hand up.

"Weasel - sorry - _Weasley_," he amended at Ron's murderous gaze. "Seeing as it's obviously beyond your intellectual capacity to read the newspaper, I will tell you that I am Granger's new coworker."

"Employee," she corrected.

Icy grey eyes shot to her. Hermione tucked a brown curl away, ignoring him.

"Whatever. Weasley, your dimwittedness has apparently afflicted you so much- "

"-Malfoy, please," Hermione tutted at him.

"_Please_?" Ron looked at her, aghast. "That's it? You're not going to hex him - slap him?"

"Hey-"

"Shut it Malfoy." Ron's red hair seemed to crackle with wrath. "I just got back from an Auror training session in Nigeria. You do not want me to jinx you into an African monkey."

"Why would I want to look like _you_?" Draco drawled, and barely flinched when Ron launched across the desk, kicking Blaise to the side.

Several hands caught onto Ron's robes and jerked him back. Seamus had appeared, along with Ginny and Luna. Wiggling through them, Neville raced to Ron's side and clasped his palms around Ron's face.

"Ron, luv, let it go," Neville cooed and planted a soft kiss on Ron's lips.

For several moments, no one said a thing.

Finally, Malfoy clutched his head. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"What. the. fuck?" Blaise stuttered, inarticulate for possibly the first time in his adult life.

.

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* * *

"Let me get this straight. Weasley is gay?"

"Yes"

"Gay," he breathed in awe.

"_Yes_"

"A rear-ender," he cackled.

"Malfoy!" she was appalled, but her treacherous pink lips quivered in amusement. She reassembled her face into stern disapproval. Malfoy was resting his head back, grinning deviously. It had taken a full fifteen minutes to finally drag Ron, along with the rest of the ex-Gryffindors, out of Malfoy's office.

"Didn't you date him?" Draco was smirking.

Hermione's brown eyes flashed dangerously. "That's none of your business."

"Oh, but I think it is."

There was a knock on the door. Hermione breathed in relief.

" 'Mione, lunch is ready," Ginny appeared, waddling in with a hand on her protruding belly.

"_Merlin_... I think my head's spinning," Draco muttered at the sight. He was going to need a lot more tea with these damned redheads.

"Huh?" Ginny's brown eyes narrowed at him. But he seemed to compose himself back into the arrogant aristocrat. He gestured for her to take a seat, but she remained standing.

"So Weaslette, are congratulations in order or have you simply swallowed a quaffle?" he asked, undeterred.

"What - _oh_ - yes, I'm pregnant."

"The infamous Weasley fertility strikes again," he smirked.

She stepped toward Malfoy menacingly. Hermione gently pulled Ginny back, all the while glaring at Malfoy.

Draco chuckled. "You Weasleys are all so tetchy. Not to worry - pregnancy suits you quite fine. You're glowing."

Ginny opened her mouth to retaliate, before shutting it, realizing that it wasn't an insult. Both women stood in silent stupefaction as their minds struggle to comprehend the fact that Malfoy - Draco Malfoy - had issued a compliment. To a Weasley, no a _Potter_. Even worse.

"What?" he asked, when they continued staring. "Don't tell me your brother's mental affliction is catching."

Ginny rolled her eyes and Hermione huffed. He would never change. She curved an arm around the pregnant redhead and carefully guided her out of the room.

Lazy laughter was still audible from his office.

.

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* * *

_Malfoy_

We ordered a lot of food. If you want, you and Blaise can join us.

_Hermione Granger_

* * *

Excuse me?

_D.M_

* * *

Lunch, Malfoy. It is customary for civilized people to consume a midday meal, often with company.

_H.G_

* * *

I would. If it were with civilized people.

_D.M_

* * *

_Hermione_

Please ignore my friend. What he means to say is, we would love to join you.

_Blaise_

* * *

_Zabini_

Since when do you call her Hermione?

_D.M_

* * *

Sorry, how about: we'd love to join you for lunch, sweetums.

_Blaisey-poo_

* * *

Ah,

Fond Pansy memories I see.

_D.M_

* * *

Don't worry - you'll get a chance to experience the same memories.

_Blaise_

PS. I told Pansy the password to your office.

* * *

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**A/N**: If you want to check my progress with the story (or any story) go to my profile.

Review :)


	6. The Artful Apology

**Chapter 6: The Artful Apology**

_"An apology is a good way to have the last word"_

* * *

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"Something's off," Ginny muttered, watching Hermione politely serve Draco some food.

Blaise smirked, and shrugged innocently. "Two coworkers can't chat with one another?"

"Not when one of the coworkers spent two hours writing '_100 Dangers Draco Malfoy poses to the Magical World_,' only deciding against sending it to Shackebolt after threats to kick a house-elf."

"Really?" Blaise murmured, bemused.

They watched as Draco offered Hermione a glass of wine, which she accepted without argument, causing a triumphant grin to split across the blond's face. Ginny smiled into her drink when Hermione politely thanked Draco.

"So .. where is the Chosen One?" Blaise asked, unable to stomach the sight any longer.

"He was exhausted for some reason," she said, not noticing Blaise's smile widen. "Seamus and Lavender also left, after seeing _him_ here."

"And your brother didn't?" Blaise asked, his gaze flickering to the redhead glaring at Draco and Hermione. Neville was persistent in distracting Ron, but he was busy hovering behind the couple.

"No he-" Ginny began to speak, but stopped when someone clutched both their shoulders tightly. Blaise turned around to stare at Luna, whose eyes were wide with wonder.

"Are we whispering to keep the Nargles away?" she asked in a hushed voice.

"Er--no," Ginny laughed, waving a hand at Blaise as if to say: I'll explain later. "We were just talking about why Ron's still around Malfoy."

"Oh, don't you know? He's protecting Hermione!" Luna insisted.

Ginny scoffed, and Blaise nodded begrudgingly. "I daresay Granger can handle herself though, especially against Malfoy," he said.

"_Noo_," Luna shook her head violently. "Only a beacon of red flames can ward off vampires!"

Ginny began simultaneously coughing and snorting with laughter, causing the wine to spout out of her nose.

Blaise appeared to be at a loss for words. "_A beacon of-? ... vampires_?"

"Exactly," Luna nodded eagerly. "Look! The vampire seems to be wary of the beacon."

The three of them returned their attention across the room, where Ron and Neville were heavily snogging. Right beside them, Draco looked as though he wanted to hurl his plate at the pair.

His pointed nose was wrinkled up so tightly, it might as well have burrowed into his face.

Finally breaking apart for air, the couple was seemingly oblivious to the peaky blond. Ron's cheeks had colored. Neville winked salaciously at him.

"Someone obliviate me!" Draco bellowed.

"Better go drag him away, before he gets a hernia," Blaise gestured to his friend, before hurrying off.

"But you don't have the flames! _Careful_, vampires always smell Italian blood first!" Luna yelled.

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* * *

Upon Luna's insistence that Blaise would get molested for having hair the shade of the bats (a vampire favorite), Ginny decided to go lend him her 'flames.' But when Luna was distracted by an owl, she sidled over to Hermione, who was chuckling at Malfoy.

Hmm...

She rolled her eyes at Draco, who was too busy making retching noises to listen to Blaise. Ron was slowly turning odd shades of red, loudly defending his manliness.

"Aren't you going to help him?" she heard Hermione ask.

Ginny scoffed. "I'm not as selfless as Blaise, at least, not where my idiot brother is concerned. He deserves some abuse for -"

"-Cheating on me with Neville?" Hermione asked wryly.

Her brown eyes darted to the men, then to Ginny, looking rather frantic. "Do not, I repeat, do not breathe a word of this to anyone," she demanded, glancing pointedly at Malfoy.

Ginny nodded solemnly. It was humilating enough for her to discover that her childhood sweetheart had betrayed her, let alone with another man. The pure humiliation Malfoy would make her endure if he ever found out --

"Draco, stop fighting him!" Blaise yelled suddenly from behind.

Hermione and Ginny jumped, whirling around in surprise.

The Italian had returned, with Draco in tow. He had finally wrestled the blond away from Ron, who was fuming in the corner. Draco himself was busy swearing under his breath, muttering dark promises.

Hermione panicked for a moment that either of the Slytherins had heard them. He would gloat endlessly, and never ever live it down. However Draco seemed more preoccupied with giving Ron sidelong glares, and Blaise was cheerfully oblivious.

"What are we gossiping about, ladies?" Blaise's angry tone changed smoothly upon approaching them. He looked at them expectantly.

Hermione sent Ginny a harried look.

"...."

"_The clinic_," said Hermione. "_Christmas ball_," said Ginny.

Blaise grinned. "... okay."

"Um, yes, the Christmas Ball," Hermione amended, giving Ginny a warning glance that clearly said: keep quiet.

"You planning on attending it?" he asked, casting a frustrated glance at Draco, who was flashing rude hand gestures at Ron.

She shrugged. If Ginny hadn't mentioned it, she would have hardly given it a second thought. Balls weren't her cup of tea. After being tarted up and displayed in several war hero tributes, she had grown weary of social events, particularly those orchestrated by the Ministry. Now she had even less time for such frivolties.

"I don't think so," she replied.

"_Why_?" Blaise bemoaned her disinterest. "She should go to more parties, don't you think Draco?"

The blond stared at his friend as though he'd gone mad. Giving them a noncommittal shrug, he reached for a glass of wine.

Blaise sighed at him, and turned to Hermione. "Honestly Hermione, after that stunning appearance in the Yule Ball, it's would be a shame if I didn't see you in dress robes again," he said with a wink.

Hermione's face lit up brilliantly, whereas Draco's appeared to instantly freeze in icy loathing. His full attention seemed to finally return from Ron to them.

"Thank you, Blaise, but I haven't had the chance lately," Hermione said warmly, two pink spots now dotting her cheeks.

"Well then - you should come to one of the Zabini soirees. I insist," Blaise smiled disarmingly at her.

Hermione smiled beatifically at him, not noticing Malfoy's sudden stillness. "Really? I'd love to," she exclaimed.

It would be something different from the usual galas she attended, she thought. Italians were known to be quite festive.

"Brilliant!" Blaise beamed at her, spontaneously taking her hands and twirling her around as if in a waltz. She giggled at his exuberance.

Festive, indeed.

Malfoy, on the other hand, merely swirled his glass of wine dangerously, and sneered at them.

Tilting his nose up, he drawled, "I don't know, Granger. Those events are reserved for a certain class of wizards. Not _your_ kind."

There was pindrop silence.

The charming smile on Blaise's lips drooped, and Hermione blinked a few times as surprise, hurt, and anger flashed across her face. She stepped back from Blaise, stiffening. Coolly picked up her glass, she flicked her head up and strode away for a refill, without once looking at him.

Shaking her head at him, Ginny trailed behind her friend.

"Draco-"

"Shove it!" he spat. Blaise threw up his hands in defeat, and decided that even Pansy's company would be better than this.

Downing his wine, Draco watched his friend leave, clenching his pale hands tightly around the glass. But, as if with a gunshot, the glass splintered into a thousand pieces, exploding in his grasp.

"I HEARD THAT YOU BASTARD!" Ron roared, charging up at him with his wand out.

"-Yeah? Glad to see one of your senses is functioning," Draco drawled, shaking off the loose shards.

Ron growled loudly.

"Ron-"

"Not now, _love_," he dismissed Neville.

Draco flinched at the endearment.

"Listen Malfoy!" Ron pointed a finger, "Just because Hermione's acting a little off today, doesn't mean you can talk like that to her .... You should be _grateful_ that you're even getting a chance here!"

"'Mione is stressed - heading a department for the first time. There's a ton of pressure on her. Something you wouldn't understand!" he spat hotly. It looked as though steam was pouring out of his reddened ears.

To Ron's utter surprise, Draco did not retort, but merely looked at Hermione calmly.

"_Hmph,_" he huffed simply, and not very scathingly, since his grey eyes still remained on her, sweeping pensively over her weary form.

Realizing that Ron's agitated glare was still on him, Draco snarled before shoving him aside to leave, leaving the redhead too perplexed to stop him.

"..." Ron and Neville frowned at Malfoy, then at each other.

"Oh look, a Russian Snotmouse!" Luna cooed, running her hands slowly over a paper copier. Shaking his head at her, Ron dragged Neville off for another snog.

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* * *

Hermione had been watching Malfoy argue with Ron from a distance, highly disconcerted by the fact that she was barely upset and not at all angry with him. In fact, she seemed more preoccupied with the fit of his trousers over the long legs.

It was odd.

Instead of fuming over his demeaning words, she was admiring the soft silkiness of his hair.

What was wrong with her? Why were these facets of Malfoy noticeable today?

Honestly, maybe she had a disease. Harry did mention something of the sort. She was simply out of her mind. Yes, that was it.

And though she shouldn't, Hermione took perverse pleasure out of the conviction that she was certifiably insane. She sighed and watched Malfoy take long strides to his office.

"Sexy, hm?"

"_Hmm_ .... Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed, turning around to the bemused redhead. "_No_. Malfoy is not at all sexy."

"When did I say Malfoy?" she asked, grinning.

Hermione stilled, then realized that Malfoy had already disappeared from view, leaving only Blaise visible at Pansy's desk, as well as Ron and Neville. She could have been referring to any of these other men instead of him. ".... Oh," she murmured.

"_Oh_? That's all you're going to say?" Ginny waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Well it sounded like you were talking about him!" Hermione said defensively.

"Sounds like you were thinking about him," Ginny retorted without missing a beat.

Hermione groaned. "This is ridiculous. Didn't you hear him earlier? - so insulting!"

She smirked, an eerily familiar smirk. "True, he was being nasty. But I think I know why."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, _please_. You're just trying to defend him because he said you were 'glowing'."

But the smirk was fixed, deepening obnoxiously. It vexed her terribly because it reminded her so much of ...

As if in a snap, the floodgates released. Hermione whirled towards her, with her hands on her hips.

"Listen to me, Gin: I am in no way interested in that - that excuse for a man. He is an arrogant, pureblooded prat who saw fit to bully us at Hogwarts. And now he's making my work life hell, knowing that he will get off of his crimes - like he always does. I feel nothing. _Nothing_!"

Hermione was breathing heavily, and felt great reprieve at finally letting it all out. Ginny was pouting in dismay, but Hermione felt great - _free_.

The calming fog that had been hovering over her all morning had vanished. A familiar loathing filled her again.

He had called her mudblood, low class and an electrocuted banshee! The memory suddenly struck her, as if she had woken up from a coma. What had she been thinking ogling (_looking_, _just looking_) at him?

Why hadn't she been able to get angry with him, until just now?

Even Ginny appeared puzzled at her sudden agitation, when just a little while ago she had been chatting amicably with Malfoy.

Utterly confused, and vowing to check herself into St. Mungo's mental health ward, Hermione escaped into her office soon after ushering everyone out.

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* * *

_Draco_

I happened to come across a very curious little article in yesterday's Prophet: 'The Artful Apology.' Its author recommends penning a well-written letter (perhaps a memo?) to apologize to someone who might not have the best ... temper.

Interesting, eh?

_Blaise_

* * *

_Ignoramus Italiano_

How you got into Slytherin with your subtlety astounds me. Malfoys do not apologize - to anyone.

_D.M_

* * *

_Your Holiness_

Get off your high horse. She's your boss, and your idiotic comments only guarantee a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Merlin help you if she finds out about the tea.

_Blaise_

* * *

The tea!! Yes, she'll have to forgive me now ... I was **helping** her after all.

_D.M_

* * *

_Draco_

No. No. No. Do not tell her! She will not take it as a helpful gesture.

_Blaise_

* * *

_Draco_ ...?

Damn it.

_B.Z_

* * *

.

A little while later, Hermione frowned when a memo came flying through the door.

All her stress had oddly crashed into her again, and she wasn't sure she wanted to read anything from that _ferret - _especially since she had been steaming over him for the past two hours.

Of course, when he was _bored_ and needed someone to bother, she was similar enough to _his kind_.

She gritted her teeth and focused on her work.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

_Gah!_

After sneaking curious glances at the paper for ten minutes, she finally threw down her quill, and ripped opened up the parchment.

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* * *

_Granger_

Did it work?

_D.M_

* * *

What Malfoy -

Your attempts at raising my blood pressure?? Oh yes, it worked.

_H.G_

* * *

No, _Granger._

The Calming Draught I slipped in your tea this morning. Obviously I needed to add in a stronger dosage.

_D.M_

* * *

.... WHAT???!!!!

MALFOY! HOW DARE YOU? YOU _FILTHY, ROTTEN, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING FERRET_.

YOU **POISONED** ME!

* * *

Merlin, Granger.

Only you would compare being calm to being poisoned.

_D.M_

* * *

_Draco Malfoy_

You're fired! Hah, let's see you stay calm now! I hear Azkaban is really cold this time of year.

_H.G_

* * *

_Granger_

You Gryffindors have no skill in the art of fear-inducing threats.

Case in point: Fire me, and you lose every single pureblood donor for your charity.

**That** is a threat.

_D.M_

* * *

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* * *

_A/N: I see a lot of you had something to say about Ron/Neville. lol. They're a total mismatch, but that just goes with the ridiculousness of this fic. _

_*All right, I'm giving you guys the chance to decide Blaise's love life: go to my profile and vote for the person you think he should fall for. The chosen lucky lady will be revealed in future chapters. Choose wisely; his love life is in your hands! _

_Vote & Review :)_


	7. Lust Fest

**Chapter 7: Lust Fest**

_"Of all the wordly passions, lust is the most intense. All the other wordly passions seem to follow in its train"_

* * *

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Hermione's head had practically exploded upon receiving Draco's memo. He had had the nerve to slip her a Calming Draught, and then simper at her erratic behavior all day long!

She had been positively livid, so angry that she had marched down to his office and wiped the maddening smirk off his face by banishing his sorry behind to Azkaban. For a moment, just an infinitisemal second, she had felt guilty - he had meant to help her after all.

But upon remembering the way he'd spoken to her after she'd accepted Blaise's invitation, she stifled any regrets. He deserved it. She had gone soft on him, excusing his behavior. One way or another he had to understand the very real threat of Azkaban.

Draco had escaped, a half hour later, drenched from the perpetual rain that drowned the island which held the prison. He had been as white as a sheet, shaking uncontrollably. She had almost balked at her impulsive punishment, and tried to comfort him.

But instead of apologizing to her, he had raved on and on about what a lunatic she was, before Blaise quickly intervened.

He had silenced his friend, and pleaded with Hermione to give his friend another chance. Begrudgingly, she agreed with Blaise that no matter how big of a prick Malfoy was, he did not deserve the horror of being imprisoned in Azkaban.

One person should not have so much charm, she thought wryly of Blaise.

Nevertheless, she had managed to retaliate at Malfoy one last time before allowing him back to work.

.

_Malfoy,_

_You nitwit. You have the nerve to yell at me even after Azkaban! You are really really lucky to have Blaise - o__r else I might have 'slipped' something far worse than what's enclosed.  
Enjoy, and I hope it will tempt you to apologize. _

_H.G_

_PS. This message will self-combust - so don't even try to sue me. _

.

She grinned to herself in memory.

Despite her initial furor, a deep sense of relief hit her. It had only been a draught, not her.

For the few hours that she had been under the potion's influence, everything, particular Draco, seemed so different. Merlin knows she wouldn't ever normally think of Malfoy as hands- a _handful_. Yes, he was a handful.

Her mind involuntarily flicked back to the delectable picture he had posed in the drenching Azkaban storm, soaked to the bone, with his robes plastered against every muscle .... Oh Merlin. Hermione pressed a fevered hand to her forehead. She must still be reeling from the draught's side-effects. Why else ...?

_Knock, Knock_

"Come in," she called absently.

Opening the door, Draco strolled in, then stopped and chuckled at Hermione biting her lip pensively. Sliding into the seat, he belatedly wondered why he came here so often. By all rights he should be just as furious as her.

After all, he had woken up in a cold sweat the past two nights, after the mind-numbing thirty minutes at Azkaban. He must have some sort of sick penchant for punishment.

His grey eyes narrowed as he caught sight of something pink and round in her hand. Hermione seemed to be squeezing it periodically, tossing it from hand to hand.

"Granger," he said slowly, "are you squeezing _balls_?"

The ball dropped dead on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" she spluttered, finally noticing his tall presence. Draco smirked and glanced down at the ball.

"It's a stress ball," she explained, cursing her flaming cheeks. It felt as though he could peer right into her mind and listen to the horridly embarassing thoughts she had been having of him.

Pointing at the ball, more so as a distraction from her furious blush, she said, "It's soft and used to relieve tension. And I've been more stressed than usual, no thanks to you ... I think I might also be suffering some sort of withdrawal from the Calming Draught - _for which_ I'm still considering ignoring Blaise and sending you back to Azkaban."

At her rambling, he raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Always the dramatic, Granger. I think the banishment and the Bubotuber pus in the mail was retaliation enough." She smiled briefly.

"Because of all those hideous marks, I'd had to have my house elf rub me down in chamomile," he said, his mouth turned down in disgust.

Hermione pushed away the image of a chamomile covered Draco, and said sternly, "You know, working in this department should give you some better viewpoint on keeping house elves,"

"Yeah, like how to evade the bloody house elf restrictions," he retorted, smirking.

"Draco!" she scolded.

His head shot up. "What?"

"What? I'm right-"

"No, you said my first name," he observed solemnly, frowning at her as though she were a twitching frog about to be dissected.

"Oh," she murmured, "did I?"

Draco gazed at her coolly. "You feeling all right Granger?"

He hadn't known what to expect when he walked in, what with her unpredictable temper. He'd even prepared himself for their sparring. But he certainly hadn't anticipated her being so fidgety and uncomfortable. In fact, it was plainly obvious to him that she was avoiding locking eyes with him.

Interesting.

"Yes - er - no," she muttered, shaking her curly hair to cover up her discomfiture. "Well, actually, do you know if Calming Draughts have any ... side-effects?"

He looked surprised. "No ... _why_?" he asked slowly.

"Nothing," she retorted, suddenly nervous at his intense, penetrating gaze. "I _just_ ... felt nothing."

He observed her with something akin to worry. It vanished a few minutes later when she subconsciously began to squeeze the ball again, flexing her hand rhythmically around its plush shape.

Feeling out of sorts with her strange behavior, he stood up to leave for lunch. Hermione barely noticed, her brows furrowed in concentration on the papers in front of her, and her fist pumping continuously.

"Oh Granger," he called, glancing over his shoulder.

She glared up at him, but he just gave her that infuriating smirk.

"You know you're not too bad when you're 'poisoned'." He winked cheekily and strode away.

_What??_

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* * *

Hermione found herself unable to focus after Malfoy had left. The previous week's events still bothered her. She'd been in a sort of trance under the Calming Draught, but she could painfully remember (no thanks to Ginny) how different Malfoy had seemed when she was calm. It was odd.

What if - could there be a _lust potion_ in the draught?

She bit her lip in frustration.

_Damn that Malfoy._

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.

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She had nearly missed him, catching him just as he was finishing up work.

"Blaise! A quick question," she called, walking over to the dark Italian, who paused and smiled at her. "Sorry. I just - do you know if Calming Draughts have any side-effects?"

If Blaise was surprised by her question, he did not show it. "Of course: drowsiness - you knew that," he said. He placed a concerned hand on her shoulder.

"No, not the usual ones," she fumbled, picking at her robes. But he continued to stare. "Like, I mean ... _lust_."

There, she said it.

His eyebrows shot up all the way and he grinned lasciviously. "Why Granger, I'm flattered."

"What-" She colored. "No, it's not _you_."

Instantly she realized her mistake, and cursed herself at Blaise's positively feral look of curiosity. He leaned into her further, brown eyes twinkling.

"_So_..." he started innocently, "who is it then?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she feigned ignorance.

"You just told me you were experiencing lust side-effects," he prodded.

"Yes, but I never said it was _one_ specific person. Just a general .. um, lustiness," she waved her hands helplessly.

He let out a bark of laughter. "Is that so? Then, why was I excluded from this lust-fest? ... Unless, you are _lying_ and there _is_ a specific person."

_Damn Slytherins_. She glared at him.

"I have work to do Zabini, as do you," she said haughtily, turning up her nose to stalk back to her office.

He just grinned devilishly.

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* * *

Hermione chewed on her salad and listened to Ginny rant about her pregnancy cravings, all the while wondering how to pose the question to her friend. She had already had two unsuccessful attempts. And she cringed at the turn at which Ginny's thoughts would inevitably take .... right to an infuriating blond ferret.

"Do Calming Draughts cause any strange side-effects?" she blurted out.

Ginny looked taken aback, her dark eyes widening. "Why - are you okay? You're not feeling drowsy or faint, are you?"

"No, no," Hermione reassured her. "Just, I've been feeling oddly ... attracted to _er_-some people after taking it. Do you think there was a lust potion in it?"

Ginny instantly relaxed. She grinned, almost evilly, but replied coolly. "A _lust potion, _hm?"

Hermione nodded.

Striking a pensive pose, Ginny murmured, "I don't think so. It's more likely that once all the stress and clutter in your head calms, other hidden feelings become more easily noticeable."

When Hermione frowned, she expounded, "_Like_ maybe the not-so-platonic thoughts lurking behind the insults and hate...?"

"What are you talking about Ginny?" Hermione stared.

"Oh honestly, _smartest-witch-of-her-generation_ my foot." The redhead rolled her eyes.

Hermione coughed uncomfortably and prodded at her food. She had a niggling feeling as to what Ginny was talking about, and deftly switched topics. "In any case, Malfoy is lucky he's breathing. I can't believe he put me in this position!"

Ginny pursed her lips, suppressing a smug smile. "You know, we've been here for an hour and all I heard about was Malfoy this and Malfoy that," she commented slyly.

"Yeah, well he's bloody infuriating." Hermione jabbed the crouton.

"_Mmhm_..."

"Why are you smirking?? I swear you look just like-" Hermione stopped herself.

"-Malfoy?" Ginny asked innocently.

"You're crazy." Her brown curls shook in insistence. "Hormones are making you deranged. I mean, honestly, if you saw us in my office - this would be the furthest thing from your mind."

"Your _office_?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, every other hour he pops in to bother me with his latest work-evasion scheme."

"Oh sweet Merlin."

"What?"

"You two-"

"Yes?"

"- spend time not working, in your office."

"Well _I_ am working," Hermione insisted.

"And you let him _stay_? This I cannot believe. You consider work time _sacred_. And I know very well that you can throw him out of there very easily."

Ginny shook her auburn head, smiling to herself. Hermione sat glumly, feeling a strange ominous sensation rising inside of herself. Suddenly she didn't feel so hungry anymore.

_Definitely side-effects._

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* * *

_A/N**:** Sorry for the delay! Remember -- the poll is still open. This week Hermione is leading in the race for Blaise's amore, with the rest of the ladies neck-and-neck. _

_Review & Vote!_


	8. Author's Note

**Author's Note: HIATUS**

I really hate to do this. But, due to an unfortunate computer problem, I've lost a sizeable portion of this story. Because of this I've hit a writer's block, and decided to put this fic on hiatus.

I will reveal the poll results at the end of the hiatus ... which will hopefully last no more than a year.

Thanks for all the read & reviews!

_~ M_


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